Chasing the sun
by lethian
Summary: Hawke's love life in few sentences. Isabela, Fenris, Anders... or none?


_Little piece for my dear friend coldwetn0se, and her Sad-Sack Hawke._

_A few notes:_  
_Timeline of the events are not canonical, but it suits the story and each character, imho;_  
_You can ask - where's Merrill? Two reasons for that. First, there's only 3 acts in the game. Secondly, Merrill's romance has no inner struggle to me, unlike the others._

* * *

Thick curls of dark hair, a saucy glint of hazel eyes, curvy frame, adorned by golden trinkets. Hawke is drawn to lechery like a moth, she wants to chase sensual desires and see if she burns. Night brawl in the Chantry provides this opportunity.

Drunken giggles, lustful sighs. She bathes in flames, and that sensation is exhilarating. Perhaps this time?  
"I love you," purrs Hawke, arching up to meet Isabela's hands.  
"No, Hawke. You loved a gamble," twitching her lips, Isabela maps the path between two mounds of flesh.

The floor creaks under receding steps, smothering the thrill of seduction.  
There are no more rendezvous, Isabela avoids commitment. Pirates would not settle for dry land.

The city bustles and thrums around them, as they maneuver through its bowels. The last bag of coins, the final quarrel with mother, before descending into the Deep Roads. It's time to find if they have fortune.

**—**

Stark strands of white hair, glittering pools of emerald eyes, lanky frame, adorned by silver markings. Hawke is drawn to danger like a moth, she wants to chase unbridled fury and see if she burns. Exhausting fight in the Holding Caves provides this opportunity.

Hungry lips, feverish touches. She bursts into flames, and that sensation is intoxicating. It has to be this time.  
"I love you!" pleads Hawke, hopelessly reaching out for Fenris.  
"No, Hawke. You loved a ghost," casting his eyes down, Fenris turns to walk away.

The hearth slowly dies out, leaving misery to creep up in the darkness.  
There is no more wild nights, Fenris flees attachment. Wolves would not submit to a leash.

The city cramps and screams around them, as they make their way to the Keep. The last charge upstairs, the final argument with the Arishok over Isabela, who was brought back by compunction. It's time to find if they have respect.

**—**

Silky locks of blond hair, soft glow of amber eyes, lean frame, adorned by gray feathers. Hawke is drawn to conflict like a moth, she wants to chase unyielding fervor and see if she burns. Unexpected collision in the tunnels under the Gallows provides this opportunity.

Honeyed words, desperate kisses. She goes up in flames, and that sensation is galvanizing. This one time, surely.  
"I love you..." pledges Hawke, hovering the blade of her knife over Anders' back.  
"No, Hawke. You loved an idea," bracing himself, Anders lets out a contented sigh.

The ashes sluggishly fall, prickling the bones with needles of weariness.  
There is no expectancy, Anders resigns to his fate. Fanatics would not miss the chance to become a martyrs.

The city scorches and collapses around them, as they press to the Gallows. The last stand, the final exchange of words with people she considers friends. It's time to find if they have tomorrow.

**—**

Droplets of salt water, caress of sunrays, sway of the warm wood under her feet.

"I always thought words would give me a sense of belonging, but what did I know? How did I fail so spectacularly, Varric?" asks Hawke, glancing with yearning at the tangle of chocolate curves and wires of lyrium; two beautifully contrasting and yet perfectly fitting shapes, engrossed into each other at the bow. Isabela had never been so tentative around her, and Fenris was never so willing.

"Wasn't that obvious, Hawke? You only ever loved yourself, and chased dreams to fend off that truth," answers Varric, sympathetically patting on her arm.

Bright patch at her feet draws her attention. A worn red strip latches onto her toe, blown away by the wind from oblivious lovers. Favor returned, last token of affiliation cast aside. All debts, if there were any, are paid in full.

Hawke turns around, raising her hands to the skies, and bitterly smiles.

"Guess it's time I'd chase the sun, and see if I burn."


End file.
